SINGING FIRES 
OF ERIN 

ELEANOR ROGERS COX 









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SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 




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S1D51D5 F1126S 
OF GRID 

By ELEANOR. ROGERS <30X 




NewYoricJOHN LANE COMPANYMCMXVI 






COPYRIGHT, igi6. 

By JOHN LANE COMPANY 



All rights of reproduction of 
the designs in this volume 
are reserved by the artist, 
Mr. John P. Campbell. 




Press of 
J. J. Little & Ives Company 

New York, U. S. A. 



APR i3 1916 

©CLA427669 



fer 

i 



TO 
ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES 

THESE SONGS OF HEROIC IRELAND, WRITTEN IN 

THE UNITED STATES, ARE DEDICATED, IN 

MEMORY OF HIS LONG, DEVOTED AND 

HONORABLE SONG-SERVICE TO 

THAT DEAR MOTHERLAND 



/ T*HE author returns thanks for permis- 
-*■ sion to use in this collection of her 
poems, those which have appeared in The 
Century Magazine, The Smart Set, The 
New York Times, Harper's Weekly, The 
Rosary, the Gaelic-American, The Irish- 
American, Sinn Fein, etc. 



Contents 
Singing Fires 

PAGE 

Singing Fire II 

Deirdre to her Women 13 

Finovar Dead 18 

Gods and Heroes of the Gael ... 21 

A Greek Lover of Queen Maeve . . 24 

A Song of Cormac Conloingias ... 27 

iEngus Og and the Swan-Maiden . . 31 
To your Palace of Golden Dreams, O 

iEngus! 33 

One Goes to Brugh 36 

The Coming of Lugh 37 

Dectera's Cradle-Song to Cuchulain . 39 

Song of Emer 41 

A Ballad of Dead Queens .... 43 

Death of Cuchulain 45 

The Coming of Finn 48 

Goddess and Poet 51 

A Ballad of Queen Etain .... 53 

The Spirits Mourn for JEngus ... 56 
7 



CONTENTS 



A Hosting of Heroes 



A Hosting of Heroes . 
The Dream of iEngus Og . 
Flight of Diarmuid and Grainne 
Diarmuid and Grainne at the Forest 

Dooris 

Grainne Returns to Tara . 

Cuchulain 

Cuchulain's Wooing . 

Emer's Girlhood .... 

Cuchulain to the Poets . 

An Earth Spirit .... 

The Magic Isles of Manannan 

The Last of the Fianna . 

Of One Who Died in Murias 

The Sleeping Knight 

Dreaming of Cities Dead . 

The Singers to Their Lady . 

An Irish Enchantment . 

O Radiant Faith of Ireland 

Legendary and Mythological Index 



of 



61 

63 
66 

70 
73 
78 
80 
82 

84 
86 

87 
90 

93 
95 
98 
100 
101 
103 
107 



8 



I 

SINGING FIRES 



Singing Fire 

(SABA COMES TO FINN) 

In beauty clad as in a singing fire, 

And soft as stars that down the twilight 
creep, 
So from the greenwood in the day's rose- 
dawning, 
She came to Finn across the fields of 
Sleep. 

Athwart the gates of Sleep she shone upon 
him, 
And in his soul awoke young April 
streams 
Of Hope, of Joy, of poet-love supernal, 
And filled with singing fire were all his 
dreams. 

And waking with the morn's first argent 
gleaming, 
To faery harpings in the grass and air, 
ii 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

The woodland maid predestined for his 
mating, 
Earth's virgin flower she stood before 
him there. 

Within her eyes the calm of sylvan spaces 
By any wind of mortal life unstirred, 

And silver cadences of elfin laughter 
Under the moon in forest-places heard. 

And all around them rose a flame of sing- 
ing, 
Wherein all breathing Nature bore its 
part, 
As, with high vows of knightly faith un- 
swerving, 
Finn drew the dream-seen Saba to his 
heart. 

So, from the light of deathless love en- 
kindled 
In their bright spirits on that gracious 
morn, 
A star to shine on Eire's way forever, 
The singing fire of Ossian's song was 
born. 

12 



Deirdre to Her Women 

Now Night, a purple wizard, down the 
hills 

Walks, and the shadows with strange whis- 
pers fills, 

And broken laughter-drifts, and ... a 
little tune 

Naoise and I sang often to the Moon; 

A song of two who once upon a night 

Had fled and wed in a High King's 
despite, 

And seaward laughing from his anger ran 

Down cloudy ways untrod of god or man; 

And so took ship . . . but wherefore tell 
again 

A story time-dried on the lips of men : 

Time-dried, time-cried, for to earth's ut- 
most years, 

Lovers, I think, shall speak this thing with 
tears ; 

And harpers chaunt to chords of cadenced 
pain, 

13 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

How Deirdre widowed was, and Naoise 

slain ; 
Their glance enfettered by that thrice-filled 

grave, 
And the pale Queen who loved, but might 

not save. . . . 

But not thus shall you speak it — you who 

know 
With what unquelled soul in high ways I 

go; 
Bringing unto the state of Ulster's king 
Such pride as it is meet his Queen should 

bring; 
Such pride as one may know who from 

Life's heart 
Seized with sure hands its one unfailing 

part; 
Holding it yet, yea, even through this 

Night, 
This dearth of all desire and all delight, 
Undimmed as on that hour it first became 
Life of her own life, flame of her soul's 

flame. 

14 



DEIRDRE TO HER WOMEN 

But say it over and over again — like this : 
In slow-paced words, such as befit the 

tongue 
Of mortals gauging an immortal bliss : 
"For seven full years, strong, beautiful 

and young, 
These twain dwelt in a wood beyond the 

seas, 
Knew the wild fellowship of sun and 

breeze, 
With lips untired each morning quaffed 

Life's cup, 
That laughter, song and loveliness 

brimmed up; 
And counting, level-eyed, their rapture's 

cost, 
Cried ever, 'Well for this is all else lost! 
Yea, well for this that yet upon a morn 
Whereof the gods know, Death the mate 

twin-born, 
The bane, the flower, the crowning of our 

love, 
Shall smite out utterly the light thereof; 
Shall smite the cup alike from hand and 

mouth 

15 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

While yet the clasp is strong, unquencht 
the drouth, 

Shall make of this, our Love's bright- 
blossomed prime, 

Only a wailing on the lips of Time.' " 

Yea, had this life lasted but seven days, 
Yet were it matter for wonder and great 

praise : 
For well you know how Love's red cheek 

grows pale 
Oft in a week, and honey-cloyed and stale, 
Ere ever yet a new moon take the place 
Of that which smiled upon its infant face. 
And if, as presently, perchance I chose 
The bonds of this too-shining state to 

loose ; 
If, from this splendid void and nothing- 
ness, 
Your twilight faces, Conchubar's caress, 
I step with foot and spirit unafraid 
Into that other Void where Naoise's shade 
Wanders, awaiting mine, be yours this 

pride 
To tell how well it was we loved and died: 
16 



DEIRDRE TO HER WOMEN 

Adding this word to make your tale com- 
plete, 

"Where great Love is, Death is not, nor 
Defeat." 



17 



Finovar Dead 

Down the dark ways, down the dim ways, 

down the ways unknown, 
Finovar, beloved of princes, lo, she goes 

alone ! 
She whose face a rose of flame shone 

where the sword-blades crossed, 
She whose love a windy flame led where 

Death's whirlpools tossed; 
She the wine of whose bright beauty 

dashed from waiting lips, 
Earth for thought of that it loses bows in 

awed eclipse. 

Poppies, poppies, scarlet poppies for her 

brow and breast — 
Shall not Death himself come kneeling to 

receive this guest? 
Down the wraith-pale line of heroes what 

red joy shall run, 
As among them yet ensanguined of the 

wind and sun, 

18 



FINOVAR DEAD 

Flower-crowned, gold-crowned, fair past 
any eyes of men have known, 

Shines their lady's face upon them as of 
old it shone. 

What mad poet raised that chaunting? 
Bid him thitherwards — 

Mark how still to-day the princess goes 
among her lords; 

Still as Ferdia on that morning when upon 
their shields 

Backward here his warriors bore him 
through the sleeping fields; 

Still as crimson plains of battle in a win- 
ter's dawn, 

Beacon-fires turned pallid ashes, warring 
armies gone. 

All the beauty of the world is less for that 

she takes 
With her where no blast of morning 

Night's dim empire shakes ; 
In far Brugh love's eye seeks jEngus 

through a clouding rain, 

19 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Twilight-pale the incensed fires on his 
altars wane : 

And a wind of Danaan laughter flies along 
the swords, 

Where the silent hosts of Erin camp be- 
side the fords. 



20 



Gods and Heroes of the Gael 

Forth in shining phalanx marching from 
the shrouding mists of time, 
Bright the sunlight on their foreheads, 
bright upon their golden mail, 
Lord of beauty, lords of valor, lords of 
Earth's unconquered prime, 
Come the gods, the kings, the heroes of 
the Gael. 

Lugh, the splendor of whose shining lit 
the forest and the fen, 
He whose smile at first illuming all the 
shadow-haunted space 
Of the vast, primeval ranges, death- 
engirdled, shunned of men, 
Over virgin seas to Erin led our race. 

Mananaan, great lord of Ocean — he 
whose fair domain outspread 
Wheresoever tides foam-flowered to the 
moon's high mandate move, 

21 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

iEngus, clothed in youth immortal, on im- 
mortal ardors fed, 
Who of old in golden Brugh reigned 
lord of Love. 

And his name a knightly pennon on the 
ramparts of the world, 
And his fame a fire unfailing on Time's 
utmost purple height, 
Erin's peerless gage of courage to the 
vaunting ages hurled — 
Sunward evermore Cuchulain holds his 
flight. 

They are coming with the silver speech of 
Erin on their lips ; 
The speech that once of all the mighty 
Celtic race made kin, 
They are coming with the laughter that 
has known no age-eclipse, 
They are coming with the songs beloved 
of Finn. 

Yea, with gifts regenerating to all men of 
women born — 

22 



GODS AND HEROES OF GAEL 

Flame of courage that shall fade not, 
flame of truth that shall not fail, 
To the music of a thousand harps they're 
marching through the Morn, 

Deathless gods and kings and heroes of 
the Gael! 



23 



A Greek Lover of Queen Maeve 

How shall my song reach to her where 

afar, 
She walks by streams unlit of sun or star; 
Walks dreamingly, as one who in a glass 
Beholds the wraiths of perished lovers 

pass: 
Smiling to each pale face with lips that 

saith, 
"How fares it, love, in the dim fields of 

Death?" 

For just with such a smile — earth's last 

delight — 
Glanced she adown the torchlit hall that 

night; 
Herself a white rose 'mid a hedge of 

spears, 
Set far past range of mortal hopes or 

fears: 
So steel-bright 'mid its steel engirdlement, 
Shone that white, moveless face upon me 

bent. 

24 



A LOVER OF QUEEN MAEVE 

White face — whose fame on scented sea- 
winds sped, 

Me thitherwards to that far land had led, 

From templed groves where sage and stu- 
dent walked, 

And storied ways where moonlight lovers 
talked ; 

From all delights of mind and heart that 
lie 

Betwixt our kind Athenian soil and sky. 

But ah, that hour, which far repaid all 
cost 

Of lesser loves, of gods and country lost, 

When on a dream-starred night that great 
Queen leant 

Her cheek to mine, and all our spirits 
blent 

In one long wonder-glance, one earth- 
eclipse 

Of touching hands, of meeting eyes and 
lips ! 

A time for all things — with unfluttered 
breath 

25 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

The flame-bright lips proclaimed — "His 

sentence — Death !" 
While wild, reverberate echoes of her 

word 
The brazen rafters of the palace stirred, 
And hail-swift down on sense and sound 

and sight 
The smiting shields descended through the 

night. 

Bright love, delight and death — for this I 

came 
To that far land : for this a little flame 
Smaller than any star on night's pale edge, 
My soul, a white moth flits by sand and 

sedge ; 
Flits evermore, till in the ceaseless whir 
Of Time's great wings it win again to her. 



26 



A Song of Cormac Conloingias 

i 

THE PLANTING OF THE TREE 

"That something shall remain to tell 
Of all the joy that once was ours, 
Of all our high and dream-filled hours 
Ere ever Death upon us fell. 
For sight, for sign, for memory 
Of all that made our love divine, 
Lo, here," she said, "O Cormac mine, 
I plant this day a little tree." 

"For that first day when here you came, 
For that first hour when in our eyes 
Shone forth in mutual, swift surprise 
Our spirits' new-enkindled flame. 
For that long wonder-night when I, 
Our love's first consecrating kiss 
Yet on my mouth, in sleepless bliss 
Watched till the morn flamed down the 
sky." 

27 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

"This little tree — to moon and star, 
Through all the star-filled nights of June, 
Its leaves shall sing a magic rune 
To woo us from the shades afar. 
The sea-bound winds shall list the tale, 
And to the utmost isles of earth 
Shall bear it on, till midst their mirth 
Kings at its hearing shall grow pale." 

"For you, O Cormac, son of kings — 
Fire in your veins and on your lips — 
Already lowers Death's eclipse, 
Your dirge the white Shee-maiden sings. 
Though diamond - bright is Emain's 

throne, 
And many roads to Emain lead, 
And you are last of Connor's seed, 
You ride a darker road alone." 

"For I, whose love a net of Death 
Was round about your spirit cast, 
Behold, even now, I hold you fast 
By spell of eyes and hands and breath. 
My treasure plucked from out the core 
Of life at its resplendent prime, 
28 



SONG OF CORMAC CONLOINGIAS 

My love, whom Death, the lord of Time, 
Shall seal mine own forevermore." 

"Yea, mine past hap of mortal change, 
Past other loves to come between, 
Past lure of goddess or of queen, 
Past beauty's waning to estrange. 
Though all our life's high holiday 
Draw to a twilight grey and chill, 
Though gift of years were mine to will, 
I would not, dare not, bid you stay." 



II 

THE CRIMSON FRUITAGE 

Out of the West the King's son came, 
Through flame of the dying day rode he, 
And where the rowans lean to the South, 
Deep in the garden of my mouth 
He planted flowering kisses three. 

He said that he would come again, 
He plucked the rowan berries red, 
He fashioned them into a crown, 
29 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

And from his fair height stooping down, 
He bound and wound them round my 
head. 

And swift and sweet across my eyes 
The life-touch of his lips flashed then: 
"And thus," he said, "O heart's delight, 
I lay me on your breath and sight, 
To keep until I come again." 

And now the rowan boughs are brown, 
But red the roads from Connacht are, 
And they have raised his Ogham stone 
O'er Cormac where he sleeps alone, 
From Emain of the Kings afar. 



3° 



iEngus Og and the Swan-Maiden 

Rose-red o'er the glimmering marshes, 
Rose-red o'er the darkling lake, 

Lo ! the face of the Dawn outflashes 
From the faery Moon's grey wake, 

And I through the reeds elve-haunted, 
The road to my true love take. 

Rose-white is the breast of my true love- 
Yea, whiter than drifting snow; 

And for her are the dim reeds singing 
A murmurous sleep-song low, 

iVs yonder beneath their shadows 
Dreaming her white wings go. 

Rose of the Dawn, 'mid the lilies, 
Her flower-fair way she keeps, 

How from that dream shall I rouse her, 
How for the spirit that sleeps, 

Give her the soul of a woman, 
A woman that laughs and weeps. 

3i 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Rose of the World! from thy dreaming 

I bid thee awake ! Arise ! 
From the floor of the shimmering waters, 

From the roof of the open skies, 
Come with the love-light gleaming 

In thy heart, thy lips, thine eyes! 

Rose of my life, and its crowning! 

Flower of the Dream and the Dawn, 
Now is my long quest over, 

Now is the grim Night gone, 
Yonder the sun exultant 

Rises and beckons us on 1 



32 



To Your Palace of Golden Dreams, 
O iEngus! 

To your palace of golden dreams, O 
JEngusl 
Lo, to rekindle a dream one goes, 
To your garden of golden dreams, O 
iEngus ! 
One to garner the Deathless Rose. 

And the sun and the moon and the stars, 
O iEngus ! 
And twilight and night and the rose-red 
dawn 
And the singing waves of the sea, O 
iEngus ! 
Are wooing and luring my footsteps on. 

And the song you sang to Etain, O iEngus, 

And the song the swan-maid sang to you 

And the singing waves of the sea, O 

iEngus ! 

Are wafting my spirit back to Brugh. 

33 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

To Brugh where lingers the Love that dies 
not, 
To Brugh where yet of the years un- 
dimmed, 
Bright as the stars of Earth's first morn- 
ing, 
Dwells the Beauty of poets hymned. 

And one with the rising day, O iEngus, 
Shall come to you, call to you, sleeping 
there, 
And you from the shrouding clay, O 
iEngus ! 
Shall rise flame-bright to your poet's 
prayer. 



34 



One Goes to Brugh 

Here, where silence like a prayer, 

Binds the spirit in its spell, 
Here where peerless, shining, fair, 

Thou, O iEngus, once didst dwell ! 

Here, where guided by the gleam 

Of no earth-seen sun or star, 
I the Dreamer of a Dream, 

Come to thee from fields afar. 

Here, where ranged like wizards hoar, 
Brooding through the tranced day, 

On the rites they knew of yore, 
Rise the Druid-altars grey. 

Here to grace thy poet's sighs, 
Here to gladden soul and sight, 

Wilt thou not awake and rise, 

Crowned and plumed and wreathed 
with light? 

35 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Girt about with singing flame, 

Through whose radiance one may see 

Gold-bright birds that hymn thy name 
In a dreaming ecstasy. 

Swifter than a poet's thought 
Borne upon the wings of Morn, 

Rise, with love and rapture fraught 
To all men of women born ! 



36 



The Coming of Lugh 

DECTERA SINGS 

Awake, my soul! Awake, and sing! 
Across the foam's white blossoming 
Comes now thy lover and thy king. 

The cuckoo calls the drowsing May, 
Behind the whitethorn's latticed spray 
The blackbird pipes his heart away. 

A magic laughter floods and fills 
The song of Spring-awakened rills, 
And unseen harpers walk the hills. 

Along the mountains' purple ledge 
The Shee arise from fern and sedge 
To dance upon the daylight's edge. 

Through all green life that buds and blows, 
And with glad Summer's prescience glows, 
A rout of Danaan laughter goes. 

37 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

And I, the mortal girl who won 
Thy love, O brightest-shining one, 
Await thee here, my life, my Sun ! 



38 



Dectera's Cradle-Song to Cuchulain 

It was great Lugh himself from heaven, 
Came down to be my lord, my love, 
To me his plighted faith was given, 
And this, the flower and fruit thereof. 

Then sing, my soul, thy lord the sun, 
Sing for the little life begun; 
Sing for the crown thy land hath won 
To light her brows forever. 

My little son ! whose shining way 
Shall lie across the risen day; 
Thee Fear shall touch not, nor dismay, 
Nor blight of mortal sorrow. 

A laughter on the edge of swords, 
A war-song chaunted at the fords, 
A death-bolt launched 'mid hostile hordes, 
O child who shall withstand thee? 

39 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

A torch to guide the eyes of men 
Past deeps of quicksand and of fen, 
Beyond where even thy mother's ken 
May follow, lo, thy way lies ! 

Far, far beyond the furthest flight 
Of song or star, thy fame's fair flight, 
As, son of Light, towards the light 
Thou goest forever. 



40 



Song of Emer 

In the red of the windy Dawn, 

Through the honey-sweet, dew-bright 
clover, 
Over mount, over mead, over lawn 

He is coming, my lord, my lover ! 

From the heart of the utmost Night 
Where nor elf-flame nor star-flame 
lightens, 
Lo, he holds to my heart his flight, 

Lo, he comes with a brow that bright- 
ens! 

There is laughter upon his mouth 
For the rapturous mirth of living, 

For the lips that shall slake its drouth 
And sing to the gods for the giving. 

There is laughter for battles won, 

There is laughter for Right defended, 

There is laughter for Justice done, 
In the blue eye falcon-splendid. 
4i 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Where the red of his chariot gleams 
There are songs on the lips of women, 

There is praise on the tongue of Queens, 
There is Fear on the face of foemen. 

And bright as his sun-bright sword 

When it leaps to the foeman's slaying, 

Is the light on the head of my lord, 
Is the light on his gold hair playing. 

And when in the unseen days 

The poets their praises chaunting, 

Shall utter Cuchulain's praise, 
Shall sing of his valor vaunting: 

Me too, his beloved, they shall sing, 
No praise to my name refusing, 

The Queen of their soul's dead King, 
The bride of his heart's first choosing. 



42 



A Ballad of Dead Queens 

[emer] 

In all the twilight realm of dreams, I wis, 
There walks no Queen so high-hearted as 

this, 
Who, gazing on her King and Sweetheart 

dead, 
Sped forth her soul to his in one last 

kiss. 

Other great Queens in that dim purple 

space 
There dwell, of whose bright loveliness 

and grace 
Poets have sung, until some trait of theirs 
Each lover sees in his own lady's face. 

The shining Daughter of the Swan, and 

she 
Who once with Tristram on a summer sea 
Under the witch-light of a waning moon 
Drank deep the chalice of their destiny. 

43 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Pale Guinevere, her eyes yet heavy-fraught 
With dreams of two who rode to Camelot, 
And mouth that still, for all the dead, 

dumb years 
Is dewy with the breath of Lancelot. 

But on her heart the Rose Inviolate 
Of love triumphant over Death and Fate, 
Of Love that perished on the lips that fed, 
Queen Emer holds unchanged her royal 
state. 



44 



Death of Cuchulain 

Silent are the singers in the purple halls 
of Emain, 
Silent all the harp-strings untouched of 
any hand, 
Wan as twilight-roses the radiant, royal 
women, 
Black upon the hearthstone the erst- 
while flaming brand. 

Inward far from ocean the storm's white 
birds are flying, 
Darting, like dim wraith-flames across 
the falling night, 
Winds like a caoine through the quicken- 
groves are sighing, 
On no lip is laughter, in no heart de- 
light. 

For thitherwards witch-wafted athwart 
the sundering spaces, 
Lo, a word doom-freighted unto Con- 
chubar has come, 

45 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Whispering of one who in far-off, hostile 
places 
Strikes a last defending blow for king 
and home. 

And the King pacing lone in his place of 
High Decision, 
Gazing with wrapt eyes on that far- 
flung battle-plain, 
Through the red rains rising beholds with 
startled vision 
Sight such as man's eye shall not see 
again. 

For one there is dying, of his foes at last 
outnumbered, 
One whose soul a sword was, shaped 
by God's own hand, 
One who guarded Ulaidh when all her 
knighthood slumbered, 
Prone beneath the curse laid of old upon 
the land. 

And dying so, alone, of all mortal aid 
forsaken, 

46 



DEATH OF CUCHULAIN 

Dead his peerless war-steeds, dead his 
charioteer, 
Yet the high splendor of his spirit all un- 
shaken, 

Shines morning-bright through the 
Death-mists drawing near. 

And radiant round his brow yet the hero- 
flame is gleaming, 
And firm yet his footstep upon the red- 
dened sod, 
As with sword uplifted towards the day's 
last beaming, 
Forth goes the spirit of Cuchulain unto 
God. 

Leaving to his land and the Celtic race 
forever 
That which shall not fail them through- 
out the fading years, 
Heritage of faith unchanged, of fear- 
undimmed endeavor, 
And a quenchless laughter ringing down 
the edge of hostile spears. 



47 



The Coming of Finn 

"The Norsemen's ships are in the Bay, 
To-morrow ere the throstle calls 

Good-morning to the risen day, 

The wizard comes to fire my walls." 

"The gods are of inconstant mind, 
And of their ancient faith forswore, 

The sun, the moon, the stars, the wind, 
I pray to them, but pray no more." 

So spake King Cormac to his lords, 
In Erin's ancient council-place, 

A freighted silence drank his words, 
And no man looked him in the face. 

But at the outer portal came 

The answer to a challenge flung, 
An age-grey Druid spoke the name 

Of Cumhal, long of poets sung. 

4 8 



THE COMING OF FINN 

And with that saying one strode in, 
Of height so great, of mien so fair, 

The high gods might have deemed him kin, 
Nor less he seemed to any there. 

u And what strange word is this I hear?" 
He said, "that strikes your laughter 
still, 

That through the Dawn a Shape of Fear 
Walks unassailed on Tara's Hill?" 

"That, kindled by his baleful hands, 
The flames shall flash on Tara's height, 

And Tara's self be but a brand 

Flung red against the morn's pale 
light!" 

"And, for this Shape derives its birth 
From spirits to our land malign, 

Shall it be whispered round the earth 
That Erin's valor grows supine?" 

u Nay, never so; against all odds 
Of Hate, of Treachery, of Force, 

49 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Of jealous men or hostile gods 

Must Erin's knighthood hold its 
course." 

"And I, unto her service vowed, 
Ere ever yet the morrow's born, 

Myself shall seek this wizard proud, 
And smite him hence to shame and 
scorn ! 



,!" 



So spoke great Finn, his task begun, 
So, Fear-destroying down the day 

Flamed Erin's young, imperial Sun 
Of Truth and Faith and Chivalry. 



50 



Goddess and Poet 

With Love-sandalled feet o'er-stepping 

Night's ensabled bars, 
With thy maiden train descending 

Down a stair of stars: 
Far beyond the utmost splendor 

Of Desire or dream, 
Thou upon thy poet's vision, 

Goddess, soon shall't gleam! 

Each man's vision to his fancy — 

Mine was one of flame, 
Wandering here 'mid Beltane fires 

Oft I called thy name ; 
Called as mortal to immortal, 

Answer hoping none, 
Save the mirthless voice of Echo 

Down the hillsides blown. 

But the stars sang all together, 

As the wondering Night 
Held ajar her purple portals 

For thine earthward flight: 

51 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Flashed the swift, auroral radiance 

Straightway from the skies, 
Flooding with its white effulgence 

Heart and lips and eyes. 

Rose of that supernal whiteness, 

First to mortal view 
Then revealed, thou stood'st before me 

Goddess, maiden too. 
Flower of all Night's star-bright meadows, 

Lo, thou shonest there, 
Of thine own high will responding 

To thy poet's prayer. 

Now old days and ways forgotten, 

Fires of hearth and home, 
Face of waiting sire and sister, 

'Mid the hills I roam. 
Poet blest of all earth's poets, 

Whose poor song to crown, 
From the furthest heights of heaven 

Came a goddess down. 



5* 



A Ballad of Queen Etain 

A YOUNG HARPER SINGS 

Though you should walk a thousand 
years 

Along the singing roads that run 
Beneath the green seas, or should go 

Through all the valleys of the sun; 
Though you should climb the starry stairs 

Upon whose utmost purple height 
Girt round about with song and fire, 

Rose-red desire and hearts-delight, 
Sits Dana, queen of gods and men, 

Great mother of the Danaan race, 
Whose eyes eternal torches are 

Of awe, of rapture and of grace ; 
Whose lips are founts whereto shall come, 

Their souls athirst for love and fame ; 
Earth's pilgrim-poets, thence to take 

New flame and re-awakened flame: 
Or should you racing with the Moon, 

Her flying, foam-white feet outspeed, 

" 53 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

And o'er the hedges of the Night 

Take flight upon a magic steed, 
Not in the meadows of the stars, 

Nor by the streams that wind their way 
From where the twilight kisses night, 

To where the dawn is one with day. 
Nor, though by scented billows borne, 

Your feet should reach those far-flung 
Isles, 
Whence Fand from great Manannan fled 

To seek her earth-born lover's smiles; 
Nor there, nor there, nor anywhere, 

In wonder-fields of earth or sky, 
Shall shine upon your eyes a Queen 

Clothed in a loveliness so high, 
As she in singing whose bright grace 

Gods snatch from men the glad refrain, 
Until its fragrance fills the ways 

Of earth and heaven — "Etain!" 
"Etain!" 

He strikes his harp with languid hands, 

That younger minstrel chaunting there, 
For his eyes' desire is caught in the 
strands 

54 



A BALLAD OF QUEEN ETAIN 

Of the Queen's bright hair. 
And his soul's desire from his lips has 
flown, 

To bathe in the blue lake of her eyes, 
While his song, a rose-leaf passion-blown, 

Upon his wan lip dies. 



55 



The Spirits Mourn for iEngus 

O ^Engus ! lord forever dear, 
To thee we cry, to thee we call, 

Time strikes us with his leaden spear, 
The heavy hours upon us fall — 
Hear us, O master, hear! 

By what bright seas thy footsteps go, 
What lands are gladdened by thy grace, 

We know not, this we only know — 

We die for hunger of thy face. 

Hear us, O master, hear! 

The fires are dim upon thy fanes, 
Here, even here, in golden Brugh, 

No song, no sign, no word remains, 
To speak the splendor that it knew. 
Hear us, O master, hear! 

We pass, we fade, the shadows creep 
Upon us, drink our beauty up, 

56 



SPIRITS MOURN FOR iENGUS 

God pours us on the lips of Sleep, 
And flings away the empty cup. 
We die! we die! we die! 



57 



II 

A HOSTING OF HEROES 



A Hosting of Heroes 

Lord God to Thee, a song of praise 

For these, Thy paladins, we raise; 

Each name of whom a flag unfurled 

Athwart the ramparts of the world 

Remains a living word and sign 

Of all that made or makes divine 

The race wherefrom they drew their 

breath, 
The land they loved and served till death. 

From him who 'midst his foes alone, 
Self-bound unto the Pillar-stone,* 
To Doom's grey face and darkling skies 
Turned yet unconquered, sun-glad eyes, 
To him, that later chief,f whose name 
Gleams yet a torch of unquenched flame, 
A beacon flung against the dark, 
To light our feet to Freedom's ark. 

For all who kept their sword-bright trust, 
Their sword-bright faith undimmed of 
rust; 

* Cuchulain f Parnell 

61 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

From whose dead lips unto our own 
The sacred word of Duty borne, 
Shall yet from Night uplift our land, 
And work the glory that they planned— 
For those we praise, for these we laud 
Thy everlasting name, Lord God. 



62 



The Dream of iEngus Og 

When the rose o' Morn through the 
Dawn was breaking, 
And white on the hearth was last night's 
flame, 
Thither to me 'twixt sleeping and waking, 
Singing out of the mists she came. 

And grey as the mists on the spectre 
meadows 
Were the eyes that on my eyes she laid, 
And her hair's red splendor through the 
shadows 
Like to the marsh-fire gleamed and 
played. 

And she sang of the wondrous far-off 
places 

That a man may only see in dreams, 
The death-still, odorous, starlit spaces 

Where Time is lost and no life gleams. 

63 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

And there till the day had its crest up- 
lifted, 
She stood with her still face bent on me, 
Then forth with the Dawn departing 
drifted 
Light as a foam-fleck on the sea. 



And now my heart is the heart of a 
swallow 

That here no solace of rest may find, 
For evermore I follow and follow 

Her white feet glancing down the wind. 

And forevermore in my ears are ringing — 

(Oh! red lips yet shall I kiss you 

dumb ! ) 

Twain sole words of that May morn's 

singing, 

Calling to me "Hither!" and "Come!" 

From flower-bright fields to the wild lake- 
sedges 
Crying my steps when the Day has gone, 

64 



THE DREAM OF iENGUS OG 

Till dim and small down the Night's pale 
edges 
The stars have fluttered one by one. 

And light as the thought of a love for- 
gotten 
The hours skim past, while before me 
flies 
That face of the Sun and Mist begotten, 
Its singing lips and death-cold eyes. 



65 



Flight of Diarmuid and Grainne 

Laughing she came to him, swift-footed, 
sweet, 
Laid the command of her eyes on his 
eyes, 
Captured the soul of him ardent and fleet, 
Whispered him, u Diarmuid, my dearest, 
arise ! 

"Yonder the dawn-light cleaves sheer 

through the dark, 

Morn rises early to gladden our way; 

Fleeing, our spirits shall soar with the 

lark, 

Herald to hymn us to life's fuller day." 

"Ah, but my loyalty I" — "Ah, but my love, 
Is that a little thing, think you, O man? 

Higher it is than the high gods above — 
Mated we were ere Creation began!" 
66 



DIARMUID AND GRAINNE 

Then, "But the bride of my liege-lord thou 
art, 
Grainne, my princess, and I am his 
friend." 
"Nay, but I follow the law of my heart, 
That is thine only, and thine to the 
end." 

Fire to the flame of her wooing he rose, 
And one last glance at great Fionn held 
fast, 
Leashed in the chain of his spell-wrought 
repose, 
Out of the doors of the palace they 
passed. 

Stars lingered yet in the lap of the 
night, 
Waiting their pleasure and wooing them 
on, 
Yet for a moment they paused in their 
flight, 
Hand touching hand in the sweet- 
scented dawn. 

67 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Lip pressed to lip in a virginal, new 
Rapture that sped like white fire down 
each vein, 
While in that Love's first communion they 
grew 
Wise as the gods are of bliss and of 
pain. 

Silent as gods, when they quaff the divine 

Essence of life, save for one murmuied 

word; 

"Bride of my soul who forever art mine !" 

"Thine past all parting, my love and 

my lord!" 

Oh, for the grace of that journey begun ! 

Night fled before them and red rose 

the Morn, 

Then with fair faces upraised to the Sun, 

Joyous they sang for the joy to them 

born. 

Fearless and sweet rose their paean of 
praise, 
Hymning the love that makes laughter 
of Death, 

68 



DIARMUID AND GRAINNE 

Nature, their mother, through all her 
green ways 
Echoed their singing with rapturous 
breath. 



6 9 



Diarmuid and Grainne at the Forest 
of Dooris 

Sweeter than any life beneath the sun, 
Or any dream of life the high gods deign 
To let upon men's sleeping eyelids shine, 
Was that for these at Dooris now begun. 

For swift and strong and beautiful, their 

lips 
Unspoiled, insatiate, bent to kiss the cup 
Of perfect joy the cloudless days held up — 
The long sweet days of Light without 

eclipse. 

For whether grey or gold the skies above, 
For them undimmed shone one imperial 

sun — 
And other light their glad eyes needed 

none — 

The flame immortal of their mortal love. 
70 



DIARMUID AND GRAINNE 

And Summer wrought for them a garden- 
close 

High-hedged and all a-bloom with blos- 
soms rare; 

And sweeter all her roses for them were 

For that amongst them gleamed one 
Death-red Rose. 

Yea, and for that a little way outside 
The scented hedgerows, clear-discerned, 

stood Fate, 
Saying, "Behold a little while I wait 
The day that shall destroy them and 

divide!" 

Thus fronting always, wheresoe'er they 

turned, 
The Doom to be escaped not, nor denied, 
The splendor of the love that might have 

died 
Of its own greatness ever brighter burned. 

And if upon their raptured harmonies 
Of speech and glance, a pause, at times, 
would come, 

7i 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

'Twas but because great pity smote them 

dumb 
For all their days that yet had been ere 

these. 

So that fair Lord the shining of whose face 
Had lit their way from Tara through the 

Night, 
Love, the high Emperor of their delight, 
Filled all their days with gladness and 

with grace. 

So armored in their own bright fearless- 
ness 
Against what hap of sorrow or surprise 
The hand of god or mortal might devise, 
Laughing they drained their leeless wine 
of bliss. 



72 



Grainne Returns to Tara 

So bright-faced Diarmuid slept where no 
to-morrow 
Should rouse him with its bugle-call of 
Light 
In that far land beyond the range of 
sorrow 
Where mighty iEngus bore him through 
the night; 
While she for whom no morn of mortal 
waking 
Should bring again the radiance of his 
smile, 
Watched by him through the long days 
unforsaking, 
Deeming, perchance, that for a little 
while, 

Might yet come true that word of Angus' 
speaking, 
That, by his Danaan wizardry restored, 

73 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Some shadow-semblance of himself dis- 
playing, 
Should live again her ever-worshipped 
lord: 
But as the long, bright days in still suc- 
cession 
Passed, bringing no light to the dead 
man's face, 
So passed from out her life in cowled 
procession, 
All that had made its laughter, love and 
grace. 

And in their stead came that — the last, 
best giving 
Of the strong gods — the god-like con- 
sciousness, 
That nevermore through all her years of 
living, 
Should any great pain, yea, or any 
bliss 
Reach to her soul, where on its high 
pedestal 
Of utmost rapture, utmost anguish, 
known, 

74 



GRAINNE RETURNS TO TARA 

It kept its state, inviolate and vestal, 
A white lamp burning by a tomb alone. 

But when no more the soft, unchequered 
splendor 
Of those long days at Brugh her soul 
might brook, 
Nor any further hope the gods would lend 
her, 
To Tara back her wistful way she took; 
The courtiers watching with the avid 
vision 
Of those who see a dead dream vivified, 
Beholding in her eye that bright decision, 
And on her lip that red, unconquered 
pride. 

Murmured of marvels all belief exceed- 
ing — 
Of women's veering faith — dead men 
forgot — 
Interpreting each by his own light reading 
Of Life, the change that Deathless 
Grief had wrought; 

75 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

The wondrous change — that sun-bright 
Winter gleaming 
Of a great spirit unsubdued of Pain, 
That kept before men's eyes its royal 
seeming, 
When long had vanished love's brief, 
radiant reign. 

But once — 'twas in the singing April 
weather — 
Came lilted to her on a vagrant 
breeze 
A snatch of song that they had sung to- 
gether 
In old, glad days beneath the quicken 
trees; 
And then for all she was a High King's 
daughter, 
Of whom no weakness any man might 
tell, 
Down her pale cheeks the hot tears flowed 
like water 
Of brooks released from Winter's icy 
spell. 

7 6 



GRAINNE RETURNS TO TARA 

And "Diarmuid!" cried she twice and 
thrice, and falling 
Rose-white amongst the lilies at her 
feet, 
Her weeping maidens deemed that in that 
calling 
Her soul had sped her waiting lord's to 
greet : 
But no such sweet release to her was 
given, 
Whose fate it was behind a quenchless 
pride 
Through long, grey years to hide the spirit 
riven 
Past mortal hope that day when Diar- 
muid died. 



77 



Cuchulain 

"Never will I break my vow, nor wrong 
my land, nor sell my chief." 

Thou, most strong and beautiful, i 
Thou, most brave and dutiful, 
Thou, thy Ulster's shield and sword, 
Thou, her servant and her lord; 
Thou whose deeds athwart the years 
Flash, a burnished field of spears, 
Mighty Cuchulain! 

Thou, whose name in splendor lone 
Rears itself a pillar-stone, 
Radiant through the rains and night, 
On thy land's grey, storied height, 
Thou who scatheless held thy faith 
To thy utmost, labored breath, 
Knightly Cuchulain! 

Lo! it is to thee I raise 
Here, this testament of praise, 

78 



CUCHULAIN 

Chaunting with glad lips thy fame, 
Mouth of Truth and Soul of Flame; 
Light that shall not fade or fail, 
Sun-bright symbol of the Gael ! 
Peerless Cuchulain ! 



79 



Cuchulain's Wooing 

Great-limbed and swift and beautiful 
Past any dream, he came to her 

From Emain Macha through a land 
For gladness of the Spring astir. 

And on the flutes of Morning blown, 
Strong Joy that took for breath no 
pause, 

The song of Breeze and Stream and Bird, 
The herald of his coming was. 

Yea, and through all her April ways, 
To Erin's utmost sea-girt rim, 

Through waking seed, and blade and leaf, 
Green Nature laughed for joy of him. 

And where he held his sun-bright course, 
Straight-sped as arrow on its flight, 

Men thronged as to a pageant wrought 
By the high gods for their delight. 
80 



CUCHULAIN'S WOOING 

And seeing, with a fairer faith 

The Deathless Mighty Ones adored, 

Who thus unto their Ulster's need 

Had shaped at once a shield and sword. 

So through the singing land he passed, 
The peerless warden of her fame, 

So lord himself of Love and War, 
Unto his fair-faced love he came. 



81 



Emer's Girlhood 

Rose-bright where all were flower-fair, 
A rose around whose petals yet 

In order fresh and odorous 

The dreams of maidenhood were set. 

The green of April at her feet, 

The joy of Springtime round her 
spread, 
The hope of Summer in her eyes, 

The gold of sunrise on her head. 

So first upon the sight of him 

Who down from Ulster rode alone, 

To bring his heart's high love to her, 
In the sweet morning Emer shone. 

No girl, but Spring herself stept down 
Awhile upon that daisied plain, 

She sat, where bright the lilacs spread, 
Encompassed by her maiden train. 
82 



EMER'S GIRLHOOD 

With deft, swift skill of needlehood, 
Where Fancy led the flying hand, 

Inscribing on a silken scroll 

Some storied glory of her land. 

Till, raising to his shining height 
Her veiled glance, the silken scroll 

Slipped down, and in her sea-blue eyes 
Shone forth her new-awakened soul. 

And rising up, she placed in his 
Her gentle palm, and to him gave 

Whose heart was high for joy of her, 
Her maiden welcome sweet and grave. 



83 



Cuchulain to the Poets 

POETS, when you sing of me, 
And of the deeds that I have done, 
And of the battles that I won, 

For Ulster fighting mightily; 
Praising me with high hearts of fire — 

1 pray you also in your song 

Tell men how once the World's Desire 
Was mine to love a whole day long. 

Yea, rose-fair face and mouth of flame — 
(O vision that no age shall dim!) 
At sunrise o'er the world's bright rim 
All golden-raimented she came; 
And leaning on the green hill there 
To me in fashion woman-wise, 
Through the dark twilight of her hair, 
I kissed her on the dew-cold eyes. 

Aye, kissed until within their blue 
A mortal woman's spirit shone, 
84 



CUCHULAIN TO THE POETS 

Laughed back its answer to my own, 
And mine into its sweet self drew — 
Folding me there with an old rune 
Of kings enwrapped in magic rest, 
Till life seemed all a drowsy noon, 
To be dreamed out upon her breast. 

Her white dove's breast — O men of songs ! 
This were a tale which rightly sung, 
Would make old men grow glad and 

young — 
Would make old foes forget their wrongs ; 
For since this joyous world begun, 
Was never sure such love as this 
By mortal man from woman won — 
So fair a dream, so brimmed with bliss. 

For with the setting sun she passed — 
Swift flame to flame — her rose-bright face 
Still with that new-won human grace 
Wooing my own unto the last; 
Bidding my heart to singing cheer 
For joy that on that hillside lone, 
Love visible, divine and dear, 
Had been through one long day its own. 

85 



An Earth Spirit 

A flame that dances down the wind, 
A swallow-wing against the sky, 
An autumn leaf to brush your cheek, 
And whirl away, no more am I. 

Friends fall, dreams fade, the gods are 

dead. 
My daylight suffers no eclipse — ■ 
Across eternal abysms 
I kiss to Fate my finger-tips. 

For one am I in brain and heart 
And breath with her who gave me breath, 
Who keeps her green way singingly 
Athwart the cairns where slumbereth 

Alike high Valor and fair Love; 
Where dust the mouth of Deirdre is, 
And on the lips of Cuchulain 
Forgotten all is Emer's kiss. 
86 



The Magic Isles of Manannan 

Fair past furthest reach of mortal dream- 
ing, 
Swung beyond the sunset's utmost span, 
Golden through the purple twilight's 
gleaming, 
Lie the magic Isles of Manannan. 

There, beneath green boughs where fruit 
and flower 
Bloom together through the cloudless 
year, 
There, with deathless rapture for their 
dower, 
Their bright spirits all undimmed of 
Fear. 

Pace in paired delight, the fond, immor- 
tal 
Shades whom Honor here love's goal 
denied, 

87 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Queens who would not step o'er Duty's 
portal, 
Lords who held unstained their plumes' 
high pride. 

Thither sailing through the pearl-pale 
splendor 
Of a May moon with dream-sails un- 
furled, 
Shall I find thee, O my Queen most ten- 
der, 
Heart's Desire and White Rose of the 
World. 

Yea, and finding, wilt thou bend to listen 
Lily-wise — (O unforgotten grace!) 

Will thy grey eyes into azure glisten, 
And the rose-light gladden all thy face? 

As at last the Hidden Word is spoken, 
As at length the flame-writ script's un- 
rolled, 
As for aye the wizard spell is broken 
Laid upon our lips in Eireann old. 
88 



MAGIC ISLES OF MANANNAN 

So I dare to dream, the dull years cheat- 
ing, 

Holding yet our golden vision true, 
So O love o' mine this word of greeting 

O'er the Fairy Seas I waft to you. 



8 9 



The Last of the Fianna 

"They lay down on the side of the hill 
at Teamhair and put their lips to the earth, 
and died." (Gods and Fighting Men) 

To the dewy earth they turned their faces, 
Sweet, green mother of their old de- 
light; 
They for whom in Erin no more place 
was — 
They, the once strong bulwarks of her 
might ; 
Scarce a good man's stone-throw from 
where Tara 
Reared its shining splendor on the 
height. 

Golden-shod the hours in that fair palace 
Danced like maidens to a festal song, 
But for them who drained life's bitter 
chalice 

90 



THE LAST OF THE FIANNA 

There upon the hill, the day was long: 
Till sweet Death came down in the grey 
twilight, 

Death, whose kind kiss heals all hu- 
man wrong. 

Kissing now their lids of drowsing vision 
With a dream of Life as it had been, 
Glowing with the joy of swift decision, 
Radiant with the flash of sword-blades 
keen, 
Ringing with the songs of Nature's spring- 
time, 
Crowned with love of goddess and of 
queen. 

Calling to them through the trooping 
shadows, 
Beautiful, undimmed of age or fear, 
Those who with them through the golden 
meadows 
In their morn of manhood cloudless- 
clear, 
Long ago behind great Finn the peerless, 
Rode to chase of foeman or of deer. 

91 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

So Night set her seal upon their dreaming 
Of brave days and deeds forever gone, 

So they passed, the men of god-like seem- 
ing, 
With their faces set towards the Dawn. 

They whose like in all her future story, 
Nevermore the earth should look upon. 



92 



Of One Who Died in Murias 

When for a doom and punishment 
God took the green tides of the sea, 
And launched them from His hand on 

thee, 
And all thy pride was from thee rent. 

Nor all thy roofs of beaten gold, 
Nor all thy walls of chrysolite 
Might save thee from the rushing Night 
Which down upon thy splendor rolled. 

O Murias! with thee to death 

Went one whose face was fairer far 

Than is in June the vesper star 

Seen from the moon an arrow's breadth. 

Went one who of all ladies dead 
Wast sure most fond and flower-fair, 
A spirit wrought of sun and air, 
And all on dreams and laughter fed. 

93 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

O Dreams ! O Laughter ! vain to stay 
The rushing Death, the green Eclipse 
Which surged between our meeting lips, 
Which bore thee on its tides away. 

White foam! pale sea-drift! at the will 
Of the cold moon forever tossed — 
Thy beauty but an old tune lost — 
And yet one heart remembers still. 

Yea, though no harper shall uplift 
In song for evermore thy name, 
And I am but a wandering flame 
Upon the world's grey winds adrift. 

Undimmed through all the years I hold, 
Whence no god's finger may efface — 
O Queen! the shining of thy face 
Beneath its coronal of gold. 



94 



The Sleeping Knight 

"And the spirit of Eireann kissed the 
Sleeper's lips." 

But One came past, a spirit of white 

flame, 
Who stooped and kissed him on the lips 

and eyes, 
And whispered in his ear, "Arise! 

Arise ! 
God's heralds to the tourney call thy 

name." 

Then dream-swift down the morning 

winds she sped, 
Who had for evermore destroyed his 

dreams, 
And with a murmured song of waking 

streams, 
Him through dim ways and dewless meads 

she led. 

Till suddenly, where rose a purple height 
Of sunlit hills between them and the skies, 

95 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

A smiting splendor shone upon his eyes 
Of bannered hosts arrayed in armored 
night. 

And when his glance through dazzlement 

might scan 
The helmed features of that shining 

throng, 
Beneath the flags of causes perished long, 
He saw the face of many a ruined man. 

Yea, side by side in order debonair, 
The dead, lost soldiers with the living men 
Who strive with proven steel of sword or 

pen 
For fairer Justice in a world unfair. 

"God's mail-clad knights!" she said, "Be- 
hold your place ! 

And here for slakement of your long 
road's drouth, 

Again I kiss you on the eyes and mouth, 

Who may bestow on you no further 
grace." 

9 6 



THE SLEEPING KNIGHT 

And so was gone, a mist-wreath in the 

sun, 
No more nor less, but he in that fair host, 
Who reckon well all things for Freedom 

lost, 
His day of life-long service had begun. 



97 



Dreaming of Cities Dead 

Dreaming of cities dead, 

Of bright Queens vanished, 

Of kings whose names were but as seed 

wind-blown 
E'en when white Patrick's voice shook 

Tara's throne, 
My way along the great world-street I 

tread, 
And keep the rites of Beauty lost, alone. 

Cairns level with the dust — 
Names dim with Time's dull rust — 
Afar they sleep on many a wind-swept 

hill, 
The beautiful, the strong of heart and 

will — 
On whose pale dreams no sunrise joy shall 

burst, 
No harper's song shall pierce with battle- 
thrill. 

98 



DREAMING OF CITIES DEAD 

Long from their purpled heights, 

Their reign of high delights, 

The Queens have wended down Death's 

mildewed stair, 
Leaving a scent of lilies on the air, 
To gladden Earth through all her days 

and nights, 
That once she cherished anything so fair. 



99 



The Singers to Their Lady 

Lo! our Lady, we crave thy grace, 

If, for a little space between 
Grey of the Dawning, Red of the Morn- 
ing, 

Yet of beauty and love we dream. 
Soon in splendor of Freedom's waking, 

Mountain and vale of thine shall gleam, 
Then with a glory of swords upflashing 

Shall we hail and proclaim thee Queen ! 



ioo 



An Irish Enchantment 

There's a ripple and shower of song- 
drops shaken, 
A brown wing whirrs through the white- 
thorn spray — 
O soul of mine from your dream awaken ! 
Sweet, green Erin is far away. 

Here is no highway of singing thrushes — 
Onward with thunderous roar and din, 

The great life-stream of the city rushes, 
Avid to draw me in. 

Yet over it all, the wild, faint laughter 
Of grasses astir beneath the moon, 

Cries, "Come!" "Come!" "Come!" and 
I follow after 
The whispering, elfin tune. 

And my feet are winged with a blind de- 
sire 
For brackened hills where the star- 
beams rest, 

IOI 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

And dead as the ash of a last year's fire 
Is the spirit within my breast. 

Is it not time to cease your dreaming, 
Lost and wandering heart o' me say? 

O fairy eyes through the thickets gleam- 
ing, 
YouVe stolen my soul away ! 



102 



O Radiant Faith of Ireland 

O radiant Faith of Ireland ! Thou light 
of many lands; 

Thou flame that goest our feet before, 
thou torch within our hands. 

Thou golden span across the gulf of sun- 
dering ages cast, 

Thou glory shining yet undimmed from 
out our splendid past. 

On thee as on a bulwark strong of old 

our sires leant, 
Through thee has Ireland's sun-bright soul 

to all earth's peoples sent 
Her word of an Imperial Hope — of 

Truth, serene, divine, 
Of Heaven-born Joy all unobscured by 

chance or change or time. 

Thou fortress reared by Patrick's hand, 
that o'er the ravening flood 

Of hostile laws, of despot rage, still storm- 
unwreckt hast stood; 
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SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

From whose bright portals down the years 

true heralds of the Dawn, 
From East to West, their Lord to preach, 

the Irish priests have gone. 

Yea, priest and poet, saint and sage, and 

whoso yet would trace 
The roadways trodden of their feet along 

the world's wide face, 
Shall find it by fair towns that lift brave 

spires into the air, 
Shall find it by the shrines they raised — 

their Death-unsilenced prayer. 

And one with us in name and fame, in life 
and death thou art, 

Life of our life, soul of our soul, heart of 
our inmost heart: 

Alike in gladness as in woe, in triumph as 
in loss, 

Our Ireland on her bosom wears the sym- 
bol of the Cross. 

Her children throng the waterways where 
pass the mighty ships, 
104 



O RADIANT FAITH OF IRELAND 

Still pioneers of God they come, a prayer 

upon their lips ; 
Still bearing to their lineage true, Faith's 

fertilizing rain, 
To blossom forth in stranger lands in 

many a shining fane. 

And blest and proud forever be the word 
that o'er the earth 

Joins "Irish" and "Catholic" in one in- 
stinctive breath ; 

That said, perchance not all in praise, be- 
comes our two-edged blade, 

Wherewith to win in Truth's defense, 
God's knightly accolade. 



105 



Legendary and Mythological Index 



Aengus Og {Angus Og). — Literally "Young 
Aengus," the Gaelic god of love and beauty and 
immortal youth, whose fairy towers rose at 
Brugh-na-Boinne. Of him it was said that his 
kisses as they fell from his lips became singing 
birds. One of the many beautiful legends asso- 
ciated with him is that of the maiden, who for 
the space of a twelvemonth, appeared to him at 
the same hour every night, never speaking, only 
singing to a little golden harp which she carried 
in her hands. At the end of that time she dis- 
appeared, and Aengus began a tireless search for 
her throughout Ireland. He finally discovered 
her, leading an enchanted existence as a swan on 
the waters of a certain lake. He called her by 
her name (Caer), she responded, and in the 
morning, he also having assumed the form of a 
swan, they flew off together to his palace at 
Brugh, their singing filling with delight the 
whole country through which they passed. 

Aine (Ai-ne). — Goddess of love and fire. 

The poem "Goddess and Poet,' , commemorates a 

strange, Tannhauser-like legend, which represents 

Aine in the Christian Ireland of the thirteenth 

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SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

century, responding to the wooing of Thomas, the 
Wizard Earl of Desmond. 

Brugh. — The dwelling-place of Aengus in the 
Boyne Valley. (This Valley, so rich in legendary 
and historic lore, is within a two hours* journey 
from Dublin.) 

Conchubar (C6n-ov-ar) . — Known also as 
Connor MacNessa, High King of Ulster about 
the beginning of the Christian era, founder of the 
chivalric order of the Red Branch Knighthood, 
and opponent of Queen Maeve of Connacht in 
her long wars upon Ulster. 

Cormac Conloingias. — The warrior-son of 
Conchubar, said to have come to tragic death 
through his love for Sceanba, who was also be- 
loved of Craftaine the Harper. They met for 
the last time at Ath-luin on the Shannon, and 
there she planted a "little tree and called it 
Death. ,, 

Cuchulain ( Coo-hoo-lin). — The supreme 
type of Celtic chivalry, the champion of Ulster 
in the protracted wars waged by Maeve and Con- 
chubar. The pillar-stone at which he died is still 
pointed out near Dundalk, Co. Louth. 

Dectera. — Sister of Conchubar, mother of 
Cuchulain. The latter was the son of Sualtim, 
but popular story represented Dectera as having 
been beloved and espoused by Lugh the great sun- 
god of all the Celts. 

108 



MYTHOLOGICAL INDEX 

De Danaan ( Tudtha-de-Danaan ) . — Posses- 
sors of Ireland at the time of the Milesian land- 
ing, and conquered by the latter, this magic, mys- 
tic race exercised their wizard powers by making 
for themselves homes in forest, stream and moun- 
tain. They were the heroic forerunners of the 
diminutive modern Irish fairy. 

Diarmuid and Grainne (Dermid and Gran- 
vd). — King Cormac MacArt gave a banquet at 
Tara, to celebrate the betrothal of his beautiful 
daughter, Grainne to Fionn MacCumhail (Finn 
McCool). But Grainne, noting among Finn's 
followers, the noble and handsome Diarmuid 
O'Dyna, at once loved him. Administering to 
Finn and such others at the banquet as were 
likely to oppose her will, a sleeping-portion, she 
besought Diarmuid to go forth with her. This 
he at first refused, but finally yielded. Then, for 
a space they found refuge from the anger of Finn 
in the Forest of Dooris. Time, however, appar- 
ently healed Finn's wrath, and it was many years 
afterwards when Diarmuid died, killed by a wild- 
boar of magic origin. Then Aengus, who had 
fostered Diarmuid, bore the dead man's body 
back to Brugh, promising to restore it to a sem- 
blance of life. Several versions are given of 
Grainne's subsequent action, but the writer has 
here chosen the kindlier one. 

Deirdre. — Of Deirdre, a child of great 
beauty, it was prophesied at her birth, she would 
be the cause of great disasters. To save her from 
this destiny, King Conchubar had her reared in 
extreme solitude, with the intention of making 
109 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

her his Queen. She, however, meeting in early 
girlhood, Naoise (Nay-sha), a distinguished war- 
rior of the Red Branch Knighthood, wed, and 
fled with him, and his two brothers, Ardan and 
Ainle to Scotland. Thence, at the end of seven 
years they returned to Ireland, at the invitation 
of Conchubar. The invitation was but a death- 
trap to the three brothers. Versions as to Deir- 
dre's ending vary, but all are highly tragic. In 
"Deirdre to her Women," the writer has chosen 
that form of the story, which tells that Deirdre, 
after the death of Naoise, lived as the bride of 
Conchubar for the space of a twelvemonth; and, 
at the end of that time, terminated her sorrows, 
by leaping from Conchubar's chariot, on a day 
when the King was driving it at its utmost speed. 
Many have found it difficult to reconcile this 
story of treachery and death with the otherwise 
very noble and lofty attributes of Conchubar's 
character. 

Emain Macha. — The palace of the Ulster 
Kings. 

Emer. — The heroic and beautiful wife of Cu- 
chulain. She died on beholding the slain body of 
her lord, and was buried in the one grave with 
him. 

Etain. — The half-fairy wife of Eochy, High- 
King of Ireland. She was the object of a pro- 
longed strife between the latter, and Midair, 
King of Fairyland, in which the mortal king was 
finally the victor. Irish legend is rich in descrip- 
tions of her beauty. 

IIO 



MYTHOLOGICAL INDEX 

Fianna. — The great body of trained fighting- 
men commanded by Finn McCool. 

Fionn. — Finn McCool, who organized the 
Fianna in the reign of King Cormac McArt, to 
protect Ireland, and who, to great gifts of valor 
and beauty, added that of poetry. 

Finovar. — "Findabair of the Fair Eyelids," 
the beautiful daughter of Queen Maeve of Con- 
nacht, to win whose hand in marriage, Ferdia, 
the boyhood friend of Cuchulain, fought with the 
latter, and was unwillingly slain by the Ulster 
champion. Held up as a sort of marriage trophy 
by her warrior-mother to the princes whom she 
sought to win to her standard, Findabair perished 
in the flower of her girlhood. The poem in the 
present volume was suggested by one of John P. 
Campbell's pictures, as were also the two poems, 
"Saba comes to Finn," and "The Coming of 
Finn." 

Lugh. — The supreme sun-god of the Celts. 

Maeve. — The great war-queen of Connacht, 
the untiring foe of Ulster, is described as a 
woman of commanding loveliness. While there 
is no legendary origin for a "Greek Lover of 
Maeve," the romance is within the possibilities. 

Manannan. — The Celtic god of Ocean, lord 
of the Isles of the Happy Dead, protector of Erin. 

Murias. — One of the four magic cities from 
which the De Danaans are said to have originally 
come. 

Ill 



SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 

Saba. — Irish legend tells no more wistful story 
than that of this woodland maiden, who came for 
a little while to be the mortal bride of Finn 
McCool, and was later, through Druidical en- 
chantment, transformed into the appearance of a 
fawn. From her union with Finn sprang Ossian, 
Ireland's first great poet. 

Ulaidh. — Ulster. 



112 



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